


Yearning

by MaeaStorm



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Krogan looks really mean but he's a total DorkTM, Past Abuse, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:42:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24150757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaeaStorm/pseuds/MaeaStorm
Summary: After the battle for Berserker Island and the King of Dragons, Heather is left with a prisoner to take care of, one who she finds isn't all as he seems at first.
Relationships: Krogan/Heather
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Talk

The war was over. Everything was done, and Heather was stuck with a prisoner now. Hiccup had told her it would be safer if Krogan was kept on Berserker Island, rather than in the Outcast’s prison, as he would have less trouble escaping.

Heather definitly agreed with Hiccup, considering how easy it’d been for her stupid brother to escape from the island. Yes, Dagur  _ technically _ had Johann’s help, but Hiccup did not want to take any chances, and neither did she.

While, even now, as Heather sat in front of Krogan’s cell, on a stool, holding a blank-paged notebook and pencil, Krogan still wasn’t talking to her, and usually, she’d just leave the questioning to her guards, but she wanted to hear what Krogan had to say for herself.

“Who’s your master, Krogan?” she asked, as she glared into the darkness of the cell. The torches didn’t penetrate the darkness very well, and she could just barely see the outline of Krogan sitting on the edge of his cot, and his eyes, which glittered in the low light.

“Why should I tell you,” Krogan hisses, and Heather sees the flash of his teeth in the torchlight. “Because you’re going to put me to death, anyways. I might as well just let you make it faster and not talk.”

Heather sighs- this has been going on for the past two weeks, and now she’s tired- it’s usually something like what he just said, but she’d prefer to get the answers she needed and push them to Hiccup so she could leave Krogan to rot in this stupid cell.

She needed time to think.

Heather got up, and strode from the room . She needed time to think.

Heather sits at her dinner table, chewing on the tip of her pencil. She was out of ideas, and she didn’t want to resort to violence with Krogan, as although he was a cruel monster, he was still human, and torture, she took no fun in.

‘ _What if I tried being nice to him?_ ’ Heather shuddered at that thought, but what if she _could_ gain Krogan’s trust? She’d have a powerful ally, and maybe, she’d be able to answer Hiccup’s questions.

Heather sighs, and picks up her book. She stuffs it into the bag on the floor, and walks out her door to the market, where she was hoping to find some sort of small trinket or item that Krogan might like.

Heather walked up and down the aisles, looking at brooches and necklaces, until she came across a vendor selling opal jewelry and accessories. Heather pauses, and glances at a few of the items, before her eyes land on a shiny, silver pendant inlaid with a large, round fire opal that seemed to burn with its own inner fire.

She looked around, and spotted the vendor trying to get another woman to buy a simple-looking ring, and waited a few moments, until the vendor spotted her, and walked over.

The vendor was a rather short, kind-looking woman, with brown hair pulled up in a neat bun atop her head, and big, grey eyes.

“What can I help you with today, miss?”

Heather smiled softly, and lifted the pendant from its place on the counter.

“How much would this be, Ma’am?” she asked, and the woman smiled softly.

“That would be two silver, if you’re willing to pay.”

Heather blinked, for it was a very good price for such an item.

Heather reached into her pocket, and pulled out a small pouch, and dropped two silver coins into the vendor’s hand.

“Have a nice day, miss!.”

Heather nodded, and placed the necklace into her pouch, and headed up the hill towards the dungeon.

The door creaked open to the musty expanse of grey stone and silver metal, and Heather slowly closed the door behind her, and began walking towards Krogan’s cell at the end of the hall.

She reached it, and pulled out her stool, looked at it for a few seconds, and sighed, before grabbing a torch from the wall, and unlocked the door to the cell, before striding into it.

Krogan glared at her from his cot as she shut the door behind her, and slid the torch into the holder on the wall. She then sat down on the floor in front of the door, pulling out the small pouch as she did.

“I got you something. I hope you like it.” Heather looked up at him to watch his expression as she pulled the pendant from the pouch, the silver metal glinting brightly in the dim light.

Krogan’s eyes softened, and he tilted his head. There was a hesitation when he stood up. He was wary, it seemed.

“Why are you giving me this?”

Heather smiled softly, and Krogan’s brows cinched together.

“Contrary to what you believe, Krogan…” She watched Krogan’s eyes shift towards the pendant. “We…  _ I _ am not going to kill you.” Heather held the pendant out a little farther,making it swing back and forth smoothly.

She watched Krogan’s eyes follow the pendant’s movements, and he shakily reached out for it. His large fingers gently rubbed against hers as they did, and he quickly retracted them, taking the pendant with them.

A shiver rushes down Heather’s spine. Krogan’s fingers were rough and worn from what was probably years worth of hard work. She kind of liked it.

Krogan’s eyes glittered at her from the darkness, and he cleared his throat.

“Thank you,” he paused, as if he wanted to say something more, his eyes flashing up to her own. “I… never did get your name, miss.”

Heather was slightly shocked by the nervousness that tinged Krogan’s deep, smooth baritone, but she nodded, as if reassuring herself.

“My name is Heather.”

Krogan hummed quietly, the noise soft and pleasant in Heather’s ears.

Krogan limped back over to his cot, and she could hear him fiddling with the clasp on the chain.

“I’m going to head in for the night. I should be back by tomorrow morning, alright?”

Krogan grunts, and Heather gets up, and leaves. 

She needed to make dinner anyway.


	2. Of Vines and Roses

Heather found herself back at Krogan’s cell the next day, sitting with her back against the bars.

“Do you remember your parents, Krogan?” she asked softly. He’d been staring at the wall away from her for the past hour, as if he’d been trying to ignore her.

“No.” he grunted, and Heather sighs softly.

“Nothing, you don’t remember anything about them?”

Krogan’s glittering eyes turned to gaze at her, and Heather gave her best reassuring smile.

Krogan sighs deeply, and rubs a hand across his face.

“I remember little. My father was very tall, and my mother was a…” he pauses, and glances back to the wall. “My mother had a beautiful voice.”

Heather’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Your mother sang?”

He nodded.

“I remember her lullabies quite well. Even if I do not know what they mean.”

“What?” Heather blinked.

Krogan cleared his throat.

“They are not in Norse, and it has been so long since I have spoken my home language, I do not remember it.”

_ Oh.  _

Heather swallows. It could have been that Krogan and his family moved here from their home, but, he didn’t remember enough about his parents for that to be true.

“I remember that my father had very large hands. They were rough and worn from years of work.” Heather smiles sadly. “Unfortunately my older brother decided to set me adrift when I was a baby.’

Krogan turned his body to her completely, an eyebrow raised in interest.

“What happened to your mother and father?” he seemed curious, which was a first for Heather. She was the one that had been doing all of the talking, but now, Krogan’s interest had peaked.

“My mother died, and…” Heather paused. Could she trust Krogan with the information of Vanaheim’s existence? “Can you keep a secret, Krogan?”

Krogan tilts his head, his brows knitting together, but he nods nonetheless.

“My father was stranded on Vanaheim.” she states, and Krogan’s eyes widen minutely.

“The fabled dragon graveyard?”

Heather nods.

“I’ve heard of it, but, why didn’t he leave?”

She smiles sadly.

“His ship was wrecked, and he instead devoted his life to helping the Sentinels. These big rock dragons that take care of the island and their inhabitants. I have his journal, if you’d be interested in reading it.”

Krogan gives her a small smile.

“Well, it isn’t like I have anything better to do, Miss Heather.” he chuckles, and a tingle rushes down Heather’s spine at the noise. It’s a very pleasant, musical sound- just like Krogan’s silky voice.

“You have a nice laugh.”

Krogan blinks at her statement, and she swears she sees the tips of his ears turning pink.


End file.
